


That Okay Almost Great Could Be Better But Not Really Friday

by fab_fan



Series: Time After Time [3]
Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Coffee Shops, Couldn't leave this trilogy (?) on a not completely happy note, F/F, Fluff, Idiots in Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27105550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fab_fan/pseuds/fab_fan
Summary: But, Scylla was fighting for her, and Raelle found that she was fighting for Scylla. It wasn’t like the rom-coms Tally would put on when her and Glory hosted movie nights.One of those montages would have been great.At least the music might be better than whatever Coffee Shop Mood Music Soundtrack management had flipped on.It was duller than the elevator music.She knew. Customers told her.But, her and Scylla had no quick one minute long movie music montage that led to them being head over heels in love with an adopted puppy and gliding through the park arm in arm cheerfully chatting while others stare at them jealously.Instead, they were taking it slow. A few dates here and there. Raelle would stare at Scylla and pretend like she wasn’t. Scylla might do the same. Raelle might send over a cup of tea or a scone when Scylla looked like she needed a pick-me-up. Scylla might send her a smile that was so soft Raelle wanted to fall asleep to it.Nothing big.Just...normal stuff.(Follow up to Thursdays are the Worst)
Relationships: Byron & Raelle Collar, Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Series: Time After Time [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971718
Comments: 12
Kudos: 95





	That Okay Almost Great Could Be Better But Not Really Friday

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, folks. Couldn't let this universe end on a not so 100% happy note. Thus - this. 
> 
> Be gentle, dear readers. There may be attempts at fluff ahead.

Goddess, she was so close.

Almost there.

Just a little bit more.

Arm straining, reaching as far as she could, teetering on the tips of her toes, barely balanced on the tiny stepladder that had seen better days, Raelle held her breath and prayed for her hand to remain steady.

It was now or never.

Moment of truth.

Do or die.

Unshakeable fingers delicately set the final cup on top.

She didn’t breathe.

Stayed still, not moving, not blinking, waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

It held.

The cup stayed in place.

Not even a wobble.

Letting her hand float back, she dropped down to her heels, stepped off the ladder, and backed away slowly, eyes never leaving the monstrosity before her.

It was gigantic.

It was eye-catching.

It was perfect. 

A gargantuan grin stretched across her face, and she swung her hands up in victory.

Take that, Byron!

Two entire boxes worth of stackable reusable cups, brand new and with the Institute’s latest logo slapped on the side, were now a soaring pyramid of dubious structural integrity on the coffee shop’s counter, touching the edge of the cash register and going all the way to the very cliff of the sugar and cream dusted wood.

It was unmissable.

It nearly touched the lights hanging from the ceiling.

Treefine was going to hate it.

This was what glory truly was.

This was the moment she had waited for. Had practiced for.

This was her moment of coffee shop employee destiny.

Raelle pumped her fist.

It had taken almost an hour and more than one muttered curse, but there it was.

The leaning tower of tea cups.

The pyramid of percolation.

She couldn’t wait for Treefine to show up for her shift. 

Goddess, she hoped someone would get a picture of her face.

They could use it next time Treefine weaseled her way into being Employee of the Month when everyone knew Glory should hold the role permanently. 

Fridays were the best.

Taking in her hard work, Raelle didn’t hear the person creeping up behind her.

This place really needed a closed door with a bell attached to it.

A really loud bell.

Bells of Notre Dame type bell.

“Oh, hey Scylla.” the person spoke up casually.

Scylla?

Scylla!

She needed to play this cool.

She could totally play this cool.

It was only her sort of ex-ex-girlfriend.

They were working on it.

But, she hadn’t seen Scylla in days, and it would be very nice to see her face.

She missed that face.

A lot.

Raelle whipped around, one hand wanting to straighten out her hot chocolate stained shirt that had bunched up near her shoulders and the other readjusted her crooked apron that was riding low on her hips all while schooling her features into a look of calm indifference.

The epitome of casual cool.

Instead, she smacked into the pyramid, sending stainless steel looking plastic cups flying and tumbling onto her head and skittering throughout the store in an audible crash, a tsunami of logos and lids.

It was utter mayhem on par with Pompeii and Jurassic Park.

Blonde godzilla struck again.

“Ouch! Shit.” she ducked her head, flailing to cover herself from the projectiles bouncing painfully off her skull and smacking into her back.

Ok, those things really hurt.

Byron’s evil maniacal laughter provided the background soundtrack for the demolition of her masterpiece.

Her shift of a life’s work.

Surrounded by way too many cups that were now littered across the floor instead of artfully displayed for purchase by the thirsty not really awake or coherent customers who could get half priced refills if they bought one, Raelle glared at her friend.

Hard.

Byron shook his head in exasperation at the short girl, affable grin making his boyish face look innocently friendly. There was no one else there besides his tall lanky frame looming like a beanpole in beige.

Scylla was nowhere in sight.

Of course she wasn’t.

No dark blue eyes that made Raelle think of crashing waves and endless depths. No smirk that could be sassy one moment and subtly subdued with warm care the next. Mysterious and telling Raelle everything she ever wanted to hear. Quiet but with arms that screamed out to hold her, that begged to be held. 

A mouth that drove Raelle crazy.

Nope. Just...Byron.

The jerk.

Raelle glared at him so hard her eyes hurt.

She was going to murder him.

Tally would help her hide the body.

Maybe.

She could probably get Clive and Augustin to.

She’d just tell them it was for Bellweather.

The officer cadet would never need to know.

“Hey, Grumps.” he smiled charmingly. As if he hadn’t just made her heart race for no reason at all.

Raelle’s glare intensified.

Byron rolled his eyes and hopped up to her, slinging an arm around her shoulders, “Heard your shift was slow, so I decided to stop by. I see you started construction without me.”

Raelle shoved at his arm, “Get off me.”

“Bright ray of sunshine as always.” he scrambled away when she swatted at him. 

Raelle looked down at the mess surrounding her.

Cups were everywhere. Rolled under tables, stuck against chairs...there might have been one lodged by the door.

Then, she looked up at her friend, eyes narrowing.

Catching on to her thought process, Byron backed up, “Nope, no can do. I have to meet someone for lunch. I only stopped by to say hi.”

“Someone for lunch?” now her interest was piqued.

“Someone who you might meet if you survive your upcoming death match with Treefine.”

The betting pool had started around when the two would finally have it out in the parking lot, brought about when the High Atlantic made a comment about Scylla.

Scylla Ramshorn - still one of the top researchers at the Institute. Incredibly brilliant, powerful, beautiful. A young prodigy. 

According to Treefine - a crazy weirdo who went far outside of canon and whose decision making skills should have been questioned the moment she started dating a Cession.

That could not stand.

Scylla was a sexy weirdo who was smart and strong enough to do all sorts of Work. And, as Tally pointed out, who could resist Raelle? She was kind, caring, a little rough around the edges, but her bark was worse than her bite, and her bark was more like the baby lion Simba cub from The Lion King trying to roar to impress Nala. 

And, dating Raelle meant free coffee.

Or tea.

Raelle wasn’t sure she appreciated Tally’s attempt to defend her honor.

Especially since Raelle wasn’t necessarily dating Scylla.

It was complicated.

Didn’t mean Raelle wasn’t ready to throw down for her girl.

Words were exchanged.

Anyway, when it came to the bet, a few loyal customers may have tossed in their own hard earned cash.

A few loyal customers being the majority of the Necro department and a good portion of the fixers with a few knowers slyly slipping a couple notes into the money keeper’s hand.

Even the security guards had smirkingly hypothesized their takes.

Most went with the event happening soon and Treefine ending up on her ass.

Raelle and Treefine hadn’t been scheduled to work alone together for a while now.

“You don’t think I could take her?” Raelle frowned at Byron.

“Not if you get distracted because your girlfriend is anywhere nearby...or just mentioned.”

Raelle huffed.

It wasn’t her fault.

Scylla had been locked away for days in her dungeon of dreary despair.

Otherwise known as the library.

Raelle was happy for her. Excited. The brunette was finally allowed to work on a new project under the strict supervision of Sgt. Izadora L’Amara. Currently, her work took her to the home of all things books and dust. Which meant Raelle was left to her own devices instead of staring at her girl from behind the counter while Scylla quietly read at the corner table and nibbled on a pastry in between sips of english breakfast tea.

Goddess, she looked so cute when she was in her element.

Or...ever.

She was always cute.

And sexy.

It was a thing.

Raelle liked it.

“Hey, Raelle.” Byron tipped his head, “I’m happy you two are working things out.”

So was she.

“Me, too.” she scuffed her toe against a cup.

It wasn’t easy.

At all.

But, Scylla was fighting for her, and Raelle found that she was fighting for Scylla. It wasn’t like the rom-coms Tally would put on when her and Glory hosted movie nights. 

One of those montages would have been great.

At least the music might be better than whatever Coffee Shop Mood Music Soundtrack management had flipped on.

It was duller than the elevator music.

She knew. Customers told her.

But, her and Scylla had no quick one minute long movie music montage that led to them being head over heels in love with an adopted puppy and gliding through the park arm in arm cheerfully chatting while others stare at them jealously. 

Instead, they were taking it slow. A few dates here and there. Raelle would stare at Scylla and pretend like she wasn’t. Scylla might do the same. Raelle might send over a cup of tea or a scone when Scylla looked like she needed a pick-me-up. Scylla might send her a smile that was so soft Raelle wanted to fall asleep to it.

Nothing big.

Just...normal stuff.

Goddess, it was hard.

Scylla hurt her. Lied to her. 

She was still all that Raelle could see.

Which made her feeble attempts at latte art not turn out _at all_. How was she supposed to concentrate on making a tree with the foam and milk when Scylla was sitting over there looking adorably hot in her glasses?

She looked really hot in glasses.

And, no one needed a tree etched in milk in their latte. Just drink the damn latte.

But, they were trying. Working. Attempting to go slow and talk. Scylla was learning to be open and Raelle was learning to forgive. 

They were rebuilding trust.

Stoking the embers of emotions into something healthy and strong. Something worthwhile. A flame that could never be extinguished.

It helped that when Scylla kissed her, everything but the feel of her lips and the hum in Raelle’s soul drifted away.

Helped a lot.

“Good. Because I totally had a bet with Tally and Porter, and you won me $50.” Byron nodded.

Raelle’s face twisted into a grimace.

Porter?

Byron’s supposed best friend.

“I really don’t know why you hang out with that guy.”

Porter had been trying to get with Scylla since forever.

It was annoying.

Take a hint, dude.

Scylla wasn’t interested and was way out of his league. Yes, she was also out of Raelle’s, but at least Raelle didn’t hover around like a creepy stalker with curly hair and a permanent pouty frown.

How could someone stare at Scylla and frown?

Physically impossible.

Wait.

Wait.

It clicked.

What?

“You bet on us?”

Byron shrugged and spun on his heel, “Gotta go. Call me later, Grumps.”

Wait.

“ _Tally_ bet on us?” Raelle shouted after him.

Tally?

That sneak!

How did she never know about these things?

A few moments after Byron left another figure slipped into the cafe, boots quiet on the coffee tainted floor.

Raelle’s entire world lit up like the Fourth of July on crack with a shot of steroids and the sun exploding.

Scylla grinned at her as she walked into the space.

The grin quickly turned into a quirked eyebrow and a small frown of confusion.

Raelle just stared at her.

Jeez, she looked good. Hair swept back into a loose ponytail, black shirt tucked into her jeans, the denim cuffed around her ankles.

Was she wearing Raelle’s jacket?

Scylla needed to keep that jacket. 

It was now her jacket.

She was beautiful.

“Hey!” Raelle snapped out of her - _Scylla is the prettiest girl on the planet_ \- haze and tossed out the greeting, making as if to go to the necro researcher.

Gaze on the bluest eyes she’d ever seen, _how could eyes be so blue_ , her attention was not on the vast array of obstacles and potential tripping hazards underfoot.

The perils of being in love with Scylla Ramshorn. One forgets about the destruction and chaos one created a few minutes earlier. One could only focus on the amused sparkle dancing along the corner of the brunette’s mouth.

Raelle may or may not have stepped on a cup that rolled swiftly under the arch of her foot.

Arms might have flailed.

Eyes did widen. 

A baby sized yelp caught in her throat.

It was ok, though. She caught herself. Even made it look like she meant to do that.

Totally fine.

Nothing happened.

Scylla huffed a laugh, “Do I want to know?”

“It’s fine. Treefine can handle it.” Raelle picked her way through the field of shiny logoed landmines to her girlfriend. Reaching her, she hesitated, swaying a bit before rubbing her hands together to stop them from pulling the other woman into a hug, “Hi, what are you doing here?”

Scylla was supposed to be chained to a sad little desk with stacks of old books as her only company.

Scylla bit her lip, hands tucking into the front pockets of her jeans, “I missed you.”

Raelle melted. “I missed you, too.”

Their eyes met. 

Raelle felt her cheeks heat up at the tender glimmer in the sea of blue. She licked her lips, corners of her mouth ticking up, body leaning forward. Scylla seemed to do the same, breath catching, eyes darting down toward an inviting mouth.

Their lips met gingerly. Chaste. Barely a touch.

Raelle’s mind drifted away, her body nothing more than a shadow, the only thing in the world, the feel of the mouth moving slowly, delicately, against her own. 

Raelle felt herself drawn closer, tantalizing teeth nipping at her bottom lip before a tongue soothed the tender bite. A hand curved around the back of her neck, cradling and caressing, while another grasped the apron tied around her waist, dragging her hips to nestle against the other girl’s.

Goddess, she had missed this.

Missed her.

Breaking apart slowly, sneaking small kisses as they drifted apart, foreheads coming to rest together, Raelle inhaled the comforting scent of aged paper and soft lamplight that clung to Scylla’s skin.

“Hi.” Raelle mumbled.

“Hi.” the greeting whispered against her lips, tickling and teasing and making her heart flutter.

Raelle carefully slid her fingers along Scylla’s temple, smoothing back non-existent loose strands of hair, thumb rubbing back and forth gently as she cradled her head. She felt Scylla’s small smile in the thump of her own heart. She playfully nudged her girl’s nose with her own, earning a breathy chuckle. Sure hands twisted in the fabric of her shirt, keeping her close and anchoring them both in the moment, steadying Scylla in the feeling bubbling up inside her.

“What in the hell happened here?” Treefine’s shriek could be heard for miles. “Collar, can you not mess up for five minutes?”

Damn it.

Raelle grit her teeth, the urge to show her coworker a certain finger strong.

Very strong.

Why was Treefine still working there?

Allowing Scylla to steal one last kiss, Raelle pulled back and looked over her shoulder.

Treefine stood behind the counter, staring in horrified dismay at the unending sea of cups.

Glory stood at her side, caught between laughter and the dawning dread that she might have to clean this up while Treefine and Raelle finally had their bet upon fisticuffs in the parking lot.

“Collar!” Treefine waved her arms wildly.

Scylla brushed a kiss to Raelle’s ear, “Meet you later?”

What? No!

Raelle blindly grappled for Scylla’s hand, “Scyl,” 

She’d just gotten to see her.

It had been days.

Days!

Scylla squeezed her hand, “I have to go. I just wanted to see you.”

But…”At least get a tea or...or a doughnut or something.”

Research survival package.

Coffee shop style.

Maybe she could try one of the new maple glazed doughnuts they had started selling.

The rest of the regulars seemed to like it.

Tally had eaten half a dozen in two days.

That girl on a sugar high was something to behold.

Raelle had no idea how Glory dealt with it every day.

Scylla gave one last squeeze and somehow broke free, “Bye, Raelle.”

Raelle watched her leave.

It was horrible.

She did not like it.

“Collar! I am not cleaning this up! What did you even do?” Treefine screeched.

Raelle sighed.

Fridays.

* * *

The line was never ending.

The rush had hit, and it hit hard.

“Venti caramel mocha frappe extra hot half caf with ice cubes and two pumps of vanilla, one pump peppermint, and no whip, please.” the witch rattled off, not even looking at Raelle as she dug for her ID and swiped it in the scanner, “Oh, in a Trenti cup, thanks.”

Raelle rang up the purchase, thanking every single goddess and deity that she was on register duty.

Her rock, paper, scissors game had been strong that morning.

That, and karmic payback for Byron’s prank last week.

Tag team of karma and a long childhood of life or death decisions based on if paper beat rock.

It did.

Handing the receipt to the woman, Raelle ran her sleeve across her brow, a sticky sweat beading near her hairline as the steamers squealed behind her and the brewing coffee dinged to let them know the next batch was ready to be poured. She was almost certain a dollop of froth was melting down her back and sliding underneath her shirt.

It tickled in a morbidly disgusting sort of way.

She really hoped the itch at her ear was not whipped cream from the can that exploded earlier.

Don’t ask.

At least no one had randomly started boiling gatorade, yet.

Don’t ask about that either.

Though, she was almost certain Byron had mixed up the decaf and the dark roast, because the two lab coat clad women at the middle table near the back of the room were nodding off, and she was pretty sure their very large mugs were meant to be filled to the brim with the last dredges of the drip offering. 

This could be bad.

The next one in line slid up, knocking Raelle out of her brief moment of introspection. 

“What can I get you?” Raelle asked, automatically reaching to punch in the order, finger poised and ready to strike, eyes on the screen options.

“A small tea, please.”

She knew that voice.

She loved that voice.

She especially loved it late at night as it gasped in her ear.

She hadn’t heard that voice in what seemed like forever.

Or a few hours.

Either/or.

Her hand hovered over the screen as she peered up.

Scylla smiled cheekily back at her, card already at the scanner.

“Hi.” Raelle tossed her a crooked grin, exploding whipped cream and upselling reusable coffee cups that may not be BPA free long forgotten.

“Hi,” Scylla’s eyes glittered. “Good day so far?”

Goddess, she was beautiful.

“So far.” Raelle replied, “You?”

“So far.” Scylla shrugged, swiping, “Better now.”

“Oh?” Raelle leaned against the counter, ignoring the line of people behind the brunette.

They were fine.

Scylla hummed, “I was late this morning, so this is my first chance to have tea today.”

“Late? Any reason in particular?” 

She knew exactly why the other woman was late.

The smirk made Raelle’s heart stutter, “Nope.”

Nope?

“None at all? Traffic? Forgot your keys? Car trouble?”

Had sleepy slow Sunday morning kind of sex on a Friday.

Woke up to Raelle lazily kissing her way down her belly, bleary slumber softened eyes opening when a nose nuzzled between her legs and the flat of a tongue took a lethargic deliberate taste.

Scylla shook her head, “Just...didn’t feel like getting out of bed.”

Hell no, she hadn’t.

Feeling the tips of her ears burn as her grin deepend, Raelle licked her lips, “Would you like to add a pastry? Have you eaten anything today? Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

Needed to build up that strength and recover.

Scylla slid her ID into her back pocket, “I ate out earlier, but I never say no to a little nibble.”

Raelle was not blushing.

It was just hot.

The steamers and stuff.

The perfectly fine, not blushing woman gestured to the pastry case, “Anything strike your fancy?” She internally grimaced at herself. Strike her fancy? What, was she Byron? Shall I woo you with what strikes your fancy, dear maiden? “We have something a little spicy. Something a little sweet.”

“What would you recommend?”

“For you?” Raelle ran her eyes up and down her figure, “Lemon bar. You’re already sweet, and it’ll give you a little bite. Pucker the lips.”

“Sounds delicious.”

Raelle blindly hit the button, the machine coughing out the receipt. She tore it free and handed it over, biting her lip as their fingers touched, “I’ll bring it to your table in a few minutes.”

Customer service was important.

Tucking the receipt in her bag, Scylla leaned forward, finger gliding along the shell of Raelle’s ear and down her jaw.

Raelle was going to kiss her. 

She didn’t care that it was against policy and the line was now going out the door.

It was fine.

What wasn’t fine was the fact her lips were not touching Scylla’s.

Because Raelle finally spent the night in Scylla’s bed, and it was not fair that she had to work the morning shift. 

It was downright cruel.

These people owed her this kiss.

How could she be expected to not kiss Scylla when she was looking at her like that and touching her and...being Scylla?

Before she could duck in, Scylla swayed back. A dollop of sugary white whipped cream painted the tip of her finger. The brunette brought the sweetness to her mouth, wrapping her lips around it and sucking gently until her finger was clean. “You had a little something.”

Raelle gulped.

Another can of whipped cream needed to explode. Now.

Goddess, that was hot.

What was even happening?

Scylla winked and turned away. She peered back over her shoulder, “Are we still on for later?”

Raelle blinked.

Words.

What?

Oh.

Later, yes. Right.

Raelle cleared her throat, “Tea?”

“Coffee.”

“Scones?”

“Hmmm, maybe split a doughnut.”

“Meet you by the cream and sugar in an hour.”

“I’ll save a table.”

Raelle watched her stroll over to her normal spot near the corner.

And kept watching as she sat down and deposited her bag on the ground, pulling out a book and a pen, glasses following soon after, artfully perched on her nose.

Ok, somehow it got hotter.

She needed a moment.

A droplet of sweat slipped down her temple.

A throat cleared loudly in front of the blonde, reluctantly drawing her attention away and to the blank yet still incredibly annoyed face of Sgt. Anacostia Quartermaine.

“Refill coffee if you can stop staring at Ramshorn for five seconds.” The officer swiped her card and handed over her still shimmering reusable coffee mug Raelle did not remember her buying but quite clearly recalled Izadora picking out of the small line up near the register earlier that week.

Or, she would recall later when her mind could focus on something other than whipped cream and kisses.

“Collar!”

“Coffee. Ok. Coming right up.” 

She did not stop staring at her girlfriend.

She did turn around and slam into Byron, the can of whipped cream in his hand exploding as his fingers jammed onto the button, covering them both in sticky white foam.

Anacostia’s eye roll echoed as loud as Scylla’s muffled giggle.


End file.
